


Blue Shift

by LittleSpacePrince



Series: Canis Majoris [7]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Nigel (Charlie Countryman), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega Adam, Omega Adam Raki, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpacePrince/pseuds/LittleSpacePrince
Summary: blueshift[bloo-shift]noun Astronomy.a shift toward shorter wavelengths of the spectral lines of a celestial object, caused by the motion of the object toward the observer.





	Blue Shift

Nigel awoke in an empty bed. 

Certainly the last thing he'd expected to find when he woke, knot aching for release between his thighs. The scent of his omega had faded, still lingering, but not as strong as it should've been. Heats always tended to play out in the same old way, no matter who it was. Sex, sleep, obligatory bathroom breaks and quick meals, then back to sex. There was rarely time for anything else between, especially not within the first few days, when heat grew so intense that the need arose with hardly any time in between. 

He glanced toward the door, and the bathroom door hung wide open, lights off and Adam nowhere inside. The house seemed quiet, too still to inhabit an omega in the throes of his heat. He should’ve been able to hear footsteps around the kitchen, if that was truly where he was. But the house was quiet, and it almost seemed as though Adam Raki had never been the bed next to him to begin with. 

For a moment, Nigel’s heart faltered in his chest. Crying, holding, apologies spilled from the lips of an innocent man. Surely, it couldn't have been a goodbye, could it? But Adam was never one for confrontation, always would have been the type to leave in the middle of the night. He would never stay for a fight, if he was truly going to leave. He would make himself a ghost, leave without a word, and never show up again. Spare the other the pain of the initial separation, spare himself the pain of saying no. Adam would’ve perceived it as some selfless act… He felt his chest tighten as he bolted upright in bed, fearing what he might or might not find as he rose to his feet. What if that had been the last Nigel would ever see of Adam Raki?

He wanted to burst into a sprint, run until he found him for fear of never catching up, but his feet didn’t want to move for fear of what he might find. They moved slowly, tentatively, fearfully, knowing that there was always the looming chance that Adam would disappear. Run away, make sure that Nigel didn’t have to suffer or sacrifice for his sake. His breath caught in his throat as his feet moved slowly, walking down the empty hallway. The whole house lay still, no sign of him anywhere, the living room clear, the kitchen empty. The whole house lay silent, no sign of life, no sign of Adam Raki. 

It was the fear that brought tears to his eyes, fear that nearly drove him to his knees. An omega in heat, out on the streets on his own, it wasn’t anywhere near safe. Another alpha could’ve caught his scent, dragged him into an alley and raped him, and there would’ve been nothing that Nigel could do to stop it. Even if he got miraculously lucky and avoided it, where would he have gone? Where did he have to go? Harlan’s, he supposed, but how the hell did he expect to get there? 

The thoughts kept running through his head, but the one that seemed to prevail was the insistent pang in his chest, telling him that he was a bad fucking alpha. 

He’d known for years that mating was a bad idea. He was too much in some things, nowhere near enough in others. He had hurt Gabi, and had vowed to never mate with anyone else. But then came Adam, with his starry eyes and all the hope in the world, and he had fallen so deeply, so desperately in love. But bad alphas were bad alphas, and he had failed him. Failed to keep him happy, failed to take away his pain, failed to make damn certain that Adam knew that he wanted him above anything else. He’d failed himself. He’d failed Adam. And now… Now he was gone. 

Then he heard a whimper. 

And suddenly, his pulse revived in his veins and life seemed to fill the air again. Nigel turned quickly toward the sound, quiet and almost missed from behind the door to the quiet room. He nearly tore the door off its hinges, opening it quickly to find his omega, lying in a makeshift nest of blankets and throw pillows. The lights were dimmed and stars lit up the room, and the sight of his omega was almost heavenly, almost fucking celestial. 

Adam lay on his knees with his face pressed into the pillow, plowing three knuckles deep into himself. The sight was certainly one to behold, and Nigel swore that he could've come right then and there at the sight alone. His skin was flushed red and hot, curls matted to his forehead with sweat, slick pouring in buckets down his thighs. The blue and white light danced over him, the stars ingrained in his flesh, constellations in his skin. Christ, he was so fucking beautiful. 

There was only one question that remained. Why was Adam fucking himself on his own fingers rather than on Nigel’s cock?

Nigel may not have been a particularly smart man, not knowing every fucking aspect of biology and the works, but he knew damn well that it wasn't healthy for a mated omega to be going through heat without his alpha. Some sort of change in biology, some sort of switch flicked after mating. Empathic bond, call it, a bond that encouraged breeding during heat. If Nigel didn't meet his obligations, didn't fuck and seed him until his heat was over, Adam could get sick, or worse… Yet here he was, knowing damn well of that, opting for fingers and risks rather than his alpha's knot. 

_“Fuck,_ Adam, what are you doing, sparrow?” Nigel cursed, dropping to his knees beside him as Adam jerked up, startled at the alpha’s sudden appearance. He shifted from his knees, scrambling to save the last of his modesty as he pulled them into his chest. Still, Nigel had caught sight of everything, and with the way that he reeked of sex and pheromones, there was no hiding what was happening to him. He was deep in the throes of his heat. 

“Nigel, I…” Adam stammered, unsure of what to say. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to explain this? This act of denial, this act of pure stupidity for the sake of his own wallowing. He supposed that he’d known that this conversation would be inevitable the second he crept out of their bedroom, but he had hoped for a little extra time. 

“Come here, angel, I’ve got you.” Nigel said, not much caring for explanations at the moment. His scent was thick, intoxicating, and he could hardly keep himself from damn near exploding. He needed to get balls deep into his boy, and fast. 

Nigel stepped closer, swiftly, almost running, but Adam flinched away, hard. He had never done that, not with Nigel, had never been one to deny him anything, any passive touch or hard fuck, but this time was different. He pulled himself away, hard enough that Nigel could notice, even through the haze of his rut. 

_“Don’t.”_ Adam protested, arms raising defensively as he inched away from the alpha kneeling at the edge of his nest. He didn’t dare look him in the eye, refused to look him in the face, not wanting to see what was certainly etched across his features. He instead kept his eyes clamped shut, clenching tighter as his body began to respond against his will to the presence of the alpha being so close. Slick roiling in the pit of his belly, freshly wetting his already-sloppy rim. Still, he gulped down his own lusts and desires and stood his ground. No. _No._

“Adam, what are you-”

“I don't want to have sex with you. I don't want to have sex at all, I don't want to be in heat.” Adam hissed, tucking his knees tighter into his chest, refusing to look at his alpha, knowing what confusion and what pain would certainly accompany it. “I just want to masturbate until it's over.” 

Nigel's eyebrows pinched tightly as he knelt at the edge of his nest, knowing best to keep his distance. How much he would have given to grab him, to plow him into the floor until he was satisfied, his carnality screaming at him to do just that, but he held himself together, knowing that this needed to be discussed. There was something wrong with his omega, and he needed to fix it. 

“Adam, baby, you’re gonna make yourself fucking sick. You can’t… Why do you… What’s the matter, angel?” He sputtered, mind clouded and clogged with his need as he struggled to cling to his own coherency. 

Adam scooted back to the edge of his nest, away from the alpha, even as his body ached for him. It would be nothing but a temporary fix, leaving him tied and knotted and filled and miserable. It'd be nothing more than a reminder of his own shortcomings, of his own failures. His eyes were already watering just thinking about it, trying to summon words, trying to summon explanation. 

“Heat is pointless now. I don’t want to have sex, there’s no reason to. I can’t do what I’m supposed to do.” Adam mumbled into his knees, hiding his face in his shame. “My body can’t do its job, so it’s pointless now, and I don’t want to have sex.” 

“Adam… There's more than just fucking _breeding._ We have sex outside of heat all the fucking time. It's for fun, it feels good, it, uh… Hormones, or, I don't know, fucking chemicals in the brain. The fuckin’ feel good chemicals, and the ones that promote bonding or some shit, there’s more to it than just getting you pregnant, Adam.” Nigel protested, feeling himself becoming more and more desperate to be inside of his omega. Wrong, to want nothing but sex when Adam was so clearly in distress, but there was no helping it, not under the haze and need of his rut. 

“Heat is a biological impulse meant to promote breeding and conception. My body will not conceive, so heat is pointless. And it’s just a reminder that I can’t give you a litter.” Adam said, biting back tears from his eyes. His body was betraying him, sending him deeper into his heat, until he was shifting with the discomfort. Reminders, reminders. Reminders of his shortcomings, reminders of his failures, reminders of the child that he lost before knowing of its existence, reminders of his inability to fulfill his biological duties, reminders that he would always be deficient, reminders that he would always be defective, reminders that he would always be a freak. “I don't want to have sex if my body can’t even do what it’s supposed to do.”

“Adam, it’s… _Fuck,_ Adam, you can’t do this to yourself. To _me._ You're in heat, you can't just… You can't do this. You've gotta… You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel, you can’t fucking do this. I know it’s hard, and you’ve been through shit I can’t even imagine, and I know it hurts, but you can’t make yourself sick because of it.” Nigel pleaded, trying to reason with him. Adam was all logic and reason, always striving for facts over feelings, but after everything that had happened, logic hardly came into play. 

Adam could feel tears welling in his eyes. Nigel's words felt desperate, frustrated, even, forcing the omega to retreat further into himself, knees tucked so tightly into his chest that it _hurt._ He refused to look up at him, refused to even open his eyes, wishing that he could simply disappear, simply cease to exist for awhile. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to exist. 

“I don't want to have sex.” Adam said, standing firm in his resolution, despite the risks, despite the inevitable pain and discomfort of an unserviced omega in heat. 

Nigel let out a sigh, squeezing the bridge between his brows, eyes clenched shut. The effects of rut were beginning to ebb at his mind, through all sanity and through all clarity. He was close to losing what was left of him, close to succumbing to its haze. He needed to get away from Adam first and foremost. Despite all biological impulses and urges, there was one thing that he had vowed to never do a long, long time ago. He was not going to hurt Adam Raki. 

“Just take the bed. You don’t need to be on the floor for this.” Nigel sighed, rising to his feet, beckoning for Adam to follow. Reluctantly, hesitantly, Adam followed after him, rising on wobbling legs, as if the very act of standing would be enough to kill him. He was already in pain, that was certain, and fingers wouldn’t be enough to sate him for long. Nigel would have to haul ass to the store in his vulnerable state, fight through his rut to buy Adam a fake knot. It would hopefully be enough to keep his fever from getting too high, enough to keep him from getting too sick, enough to keep him close to comfortable. 

Adam collapsed onto the bed, scooting back to force a finger past his weeping rim, struggling to appease the growing need inside of him. He watched through the haze of red and drooping eyelids as Nigel threw on his clothes. His oversized button down and jeans, moving with a sort of frustration, with a sort of purpose, like every movement was a battle fought. He watched as he pulled his shoes on, and he felt a pang of guilt, chest sinking as he got ready to leave. And for a moment, he wondered of Nigel would walk through the door and never come back. 

It was what he had wanted, wasn't it?

He had wanted Nigel to go, to spare himself the pain, to find someone to be a more suitable mate. He had wanted to be selfless in the only way that he knew how, wanted to surrender his own happiness for the sake of his alpha's. But now, watching him leave, something selfish was tugging inside of him, begging him to stay. 

“You don't have to go.” Adam whimpered. “I don't want you to leave. I just don't…”

Nigel whipped around, feeling his fuse burning shorter as he turned to the omega, stuffing himself with his own fingers. His scent was thick, intoxicating, enough to drown him. He couldn't stay, or he'd lose control, be forced into uncontrolled carnality, until the draw of his omega was too fucking much to bear. Part of him died at the thought of denying his Adam anything, but this was the one thing he couldn't do. 

“I _can't,_ Adam. I fucking _can't._ In case you forgot, I'm rutting. I'm not gonna be able to hold it much longer, not with you in heat. I don't wanna do anything I'm gonna regret.” Nigel bit out, grabbing his jacket and his cigarettes before turning to the door. “Just take care of yourself.”

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him, and Adam was alone.

~~~~

His orgasm had been unsatisfactory, but it was enough to make the fog clear, at least for a moment. Adam lay in the mess of sheets and slick for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, unsure of what he was supposed to do now. By now, he would’ve been knotted and content, purring at the feeling of his alpha’s knot deflating slowly inside of him, ensuring that the omega was filled with seed in efforts of insemination and conception. But there was nothing now. A twitching hole, filled by nothing more than fingers, and an unappeased ache inside of him. But nothing more.

He moved in a haze, rising slowly to his feet and grabbing a blanket to drape around him, cover his bare flesh. He wasn’t sure where Nigel had gone, but he hoped not far. He wondered if he had just ran, if he had gone away. Another seedy motel to spend the rest of his rut before finding a place for himself, away from the omega that he had once claimed. The omega that had denied him, the omega that had turned him away, the omega that had pushed and pushed until he finally gave up and ran. He wondered if he would ever even see Nigel again. He was the type to go with nothing more than a pack of cigarettes and the clothes on his back. He wondered if he would be damned to haunt this apartment like a ghost, reminded by the things left behind. 

His feet shuffled along the carpet, moving slowly, hoping not to disturb something within him that would send him back into the throes of his heat. His muscles ached and burned with each movement, as if it had grown too heavy for him to so much as drag, but he forced himself out of the room anyway. 

He smelled smoke coming from the living room.

He must’ve been chainsmoking to get the room smelling that bad with the window open, as Adam quickly realized from the crisp breeze through the room. He tiptoed inside to find the alpha hanging over the window sill, puffing at his cigarette, a small pile of cigarette butts piling in the ashtray next to him. The bulge in his jeans had mostly gone down, no longer on the cusp of knotting, but he suspected that it would raise again the moment he smelled his omega in heat. 

“Nigel.” Adam squeaked out, eyes wide as Nigel glanced his way before turning back to the window, pulling another cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with the butt of the last one before tossing it into the tray. Adam felt a sharp twinge of guilt. In the time that they had suspected that he might be pregnant, Nigel had cut down on smoking, especially in front of the omega. Refused to let his baby feel the effects of secondhand smoke, he said. Now he was lighting one right after the other, not much caring who smelled it. 

“Hi Adam.” Nigel sighed, exasperated as he let the smoke fill his lungs, savoring the burn before blowing it back into the air, watching it gather in front of his eyes before being blown away by the wind. 

Adam shuffled closer, comforted by the scent of him. Of whiskey and smoke, of fire and rut, of familiarity, of home. His home was in Nigel’s arms, and it was the only place he wanted to be. He didn’t want Nigel to leave. He had been so firm in his standing that this needed to end, that he wouldn’t hurt Nigel like this, that he wouldn’t deprive him of a better life. He had stood so strong in it, but he was weak. _God,_ he was weak. He was weak, and he was defective, and he was selfish, and… 

He was drowning in the scent of his button-down again, in the scent of smoke ingrained in the fibers, sewn into the very fabric. The blanket he’d wrapped around his shoulders had fallen away, leaving him bare, pressed hard against Nigel’s body. He pressed his forehead against his alpha’s shoulder, trying to cling to him, trying to beg him not to leave. He didn’t want to be selfless. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Nigel to stay.

It was when Nigel pulled away from him that he crumpled to his knees. He was too late. He’d pushed him too far away. He was going to leave, and there was no bringing him back. 

He moved just far enough away for Adam’s grasp around his waist to break. Suddenly, the air felt cold around him, and the scent of him was carried away with the wind. He moved just far enough to make it clear that he didn’t want to be touched, that he didn’t want his omega’s arms around him, that he didn’t want the affection of such a defective person. The cold air against his chest hit him like a bullet, almost enough to stop his heart. 

The tears came hot and fast, pouring down his face at the mere pull of his alpha, the mere distance between them. Four feet may as well have been halfway across the world, and it was enough to reduce him to tears, push him toward meltdown as he fell to his knees. Rejection was never something that he dealt well with, but from his alpha… 

Nigel turned to see him crying before falling to his knees before him, body reacting quickly to the sight of his omega in distress. He forgot about his rut, forgot about the pain, forgot about the baby, forgot about the distance, and he pushed his hands through Adam’s hair, pulling him close, burying the boy’s face into his chest, making damn certain that he knew that he was loved. Perceived slights, perceived rejection, would never be enough to keep Adam from knowing just how loved he truly was. 

_“Shh,_ Adam, baby, it’s alright, it’s alright, I’m here.” He whispered, fingers brushing through his dark curls in attempt to soothe him. 

“You pulled away.” Adam wheezed as Nigel dried his tears, trembling at his touch, confused at why he would pull away, only to pull him back in. Would it not be easier to simply leave him be? Would it not be simpler to let him go? 

“Because you’re in _heat,_ Adam. You made it pretty fucking clear that you didn’t want sex. I didn’t want to… Your scent is driving me fucking wild, baby. If you don’t want sex, that’s alright, but it’s just like before you presented. You can’t touch me, angel.” Nigel explained, backing away slightly as he said it, reminded of the way that he smelled, reminded of the way that he was drowning in his scent, reminded of the pounding in his veins. 

Adam’s tears slowed, but didn’t cease, still trembling as Nigel backed away from him, reaching over to grab the discarded blanket before wrapping it back around his shaking shoulders. He glanced up, and he could see the sanity draining from his eyes, could see him clinging to his coherence with all his might. But it was slipping from him, and he’d have no choice but to rut into the couch, or into the bed, or into his hand. Adam could feel himself slipping too, and he knew that he needed to get out of his way before it happened. 

“I don’t want to be in heat anymore.” Adam murmured. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think about breeding or sex, I don’t want to not be allowed to touch you, I don’t want it.” 

“I know you don’t.” Nigel said, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he reached up, pulling his still-lit cigarette down from the window sill and propping it between his teeth before fishing around in his pocket and pulling the near-empty cardboard box from it. He flicked it open to reveal the last one, and offered it out to his trembling omega, hoping that the smoke would help to soothe his frazzled nerves. “Take it. It’ll ward off your heat awhile longer. Keep you clear.” 

Adam was hesitant. He’d never smoked in his life, had vowed not to, not much caring for its nastier effects. But he knew that it was what Nigel did whenever he was feeling anxious, or too high strung, or too stressed out. And if it would ward off the effects of his heat awhile longer… 

He took it, and propped it between his teeth, in the same way that he’d seen Nigel do it a hundred times. He watched Nigel shift to grab his lighter from his pocket, flicking the flame to life before pulling it to the end of Adam’s cigarette. Slowly, he inhaled, feeling the burn cloud his lungs as his mind went fuzzy. His airways seemed to tighten, choking him, smothering him as he sputtered it out, letting the smoke cloud the air around them. It burned, buzzed, leaving him so dizzy that he would’ve fallen over if he weren’t already sitting down. 

“Why do you like that?” Adam coughed, shaking his head hard.

“I know, the first one isn’t all that pleasant.” Nigel chuckled, coaxing the cigarette back to the omega’s lips. “The second and third aren’t too fuckin’ great either. But the body adapts fast. Keep going. You’ll get there.” 

Adam slowly raised it back to his lips, taking another drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs, his head going fuzzy, nearly falling back. The taste was sharp, suffocating before he exhaled, the smoke clouding his vision. It was no easier than the first, just with less of a shock. Still, he pushed on, and drew it to his lips again, following Nigel’s instructions. The nicotine would eventually take to calming him down, and fending off his need for a little longer. And if choking on the smoke and soot meant that he didn’t have to devolve back into primal nature for just awhile longer, he would gladly let himself suffocate. 

He took another long drag, and let it take him over until he was almost nauseous, almost crying, almost ready to faint, before letting it go. Nigel watched him carefully, as to make sure that nothing happened to him while he adjusted to the feeling, tapping the omega’s knee to signal when he needed to let it go, silent words exchanged between them. 

It was on his seventh or eighth puff that the sensation started to ease off, and some clarity came back to his head. The nausea began to wear off, and he no longer felt like choking on every breath. His nerves began to ease, and the slick stopped leaking down his thighs, cock finally softening between his legs. It wouldn’t last him forever, but it was enough to offer at least a moment’s relief as he scooted back against the wall, leaning against it for support, using it as a place to keep himself grounded.

“There you go.” Nigel murmured, encouraged, palm rubbing against the inside of his omega’s thigh, that being the only contact he would allow himself until his rut fucked off. Damn, though, if it wasn’t damn near fucking impossible not to take him and ravish him right then, fuck him into the carpet with that cigarette hanging between his lips. Damn, if he didn’t want to hear that boy call him ‘Daddy’ with the smoke filling the air around him. Damn, if Adam Raki didn’t look fucking angelic with a cigarette in his mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” Adam breathed, pulling the cigarette from his teeth and propping it between two fingers, letting it hang there in the way that he had seen Nigel do it a thousand times before. So many things had been picked up from Nigel since he’d met him. He swore more often, spoke more assertively, dressed in his clothes from time to time. He had ventured into strip clubs, had braved spontaneity where he had feared too much before. There was so much influence that Nigel had had on his life, and the thought of letting him go, the thought of braving the world without him… It was nearly unbearable. He wasn’t sure when he decided for certain, but he knew for sure now that he didn’t want to let his Nigel go. “I’m sorry I tried so hard to push you away. I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you. I’m sorry for not being a very good omega. I know that this has been hard on you too.” 

“It’s alright, angel. I don’t blame you.” Nigel said, fingers grazing up and down his leg as he drew his cigarette to his lips again, tracing circles with the swirling of smoke in his lungs. “You were going through hell that I can’t even fucking begin to imagine.” 

Adam nodded slowly, chewing on his lip. He’d apologized too many times to keep count anymore, had begged for his forgiveness when he knew that there was nothing to be forgiven for. Still, he sought for it, sought to feel true forgiveness. Sought to feel something that would take the pain away, sought to feel something more than the heartache that came with the knowledge that he was unlikely to ever fulfill his biological duties. It was unlikely that he would be able to conceive again, even less likely that he would ever be able to carry a pregnancy to term. It was unlikely that he would ever give Nigel a litter, unlikely that he would ever be able to build the family for himself that he wanted so desperately. He just needed someone to take away the pain of his loss, needed someone to speak the words that would heal him. 

“I’m sorry I can’t give you a family. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.” He whispered, words whispered a thousand times before, words that he’d spoken over and over. And yet, Nigel’s response was always the same.

The alpha propped a finger just beneath his chin, nudging his head up to meet his face. Those eyes never looked directly back, but they’d find Nigel’s lips, and watch as the words spilled from them in complete sincerity. “I don’t want anyone else.” 

He took the cigarette from Adam’s hand, stamping it out and pulling his boy close, discarding his rule and enveloping him in his arms, fingers brushing through dark curls. He hated seeing him in such pain, hated watching him wrestle with his demons. He hated that he couldn’t fish around inside of his head, stop the thoughts that were telling him that he was anything less than what Nigel saw him as. He hated that he couldn’t make him see that he was worth the whole fucking world, kids or no kids. 

“I’ve never even thought about kids before you, baby.” Nigel confessed, lips pressed into his hair. “I never wanted them before I met you. You changed my mind because I fell in love with you. I found heaven on earth, and I thought, what the hell? The world deserves more people like Adam fucking Raki running around.” 

The tears were forming in Adam’s eyes, spilling across his cheeks as he clung tighter to Nigel’s chest, burying his face in his shirt. He wanted to sob, wanted to break down and mourn everything that he had lost, mourn everything that he had deprived Nigel of.

“Don’t cry, angel, don’t cry. You’ve got it all fucking backwards. I didn’t want you so that I could have this traditional fucking ever after. I only ever wanted the whole traditional ever fucking after because I wanted you. I only ever wanted you. It doesn’t matter what kind of life we live, as long as I’ve got you, Adam. You’re all that I ever wanted. Kids or no kids, rich or poor, sickness, health, every other fucking vow I could make to you. You’re what I want.” 

He pulled tighter to Nigel, clinging to him with tears staining his cheeks. He clung to him like the world was ending, holding to him like he might never let go again. 

“I just wanted to be a good omega for you, Nigel.” Adam mumbled into his chest, fingers grasping tightly to his shirt, mourning what he'd lost and cherishing what he still had. 

“You're already a good omega, Adam. Best fucking omega I've ever seen in my goddamn life.” Nigel said, pulling him out of his chest and looking straight into those blue eyes of his, even if they weren't quite looking back. “I'm proud of you, kids or no kids. I love you, kids or no kids. I'm yours, kids or no kids.” 

Adam offered a weak smile, trying to believe that it would be okay. But it almost felt like he was lying to himself. “I just… I wanted to give you a family.” He murmured, eyes downcast. “I wanted to have a family. I wanted to build a home with you, Nigel. But I can’t.” 

“Who says?” 

Adam pulled back slightly, brows knitted tight as he looked up with baffled blue eyes, looking at him as if he’d lost his goddamn mind. But Nigel knew exactly what he was about. No way in hell he’d let a diagnosis destroy his hope, or the hope that flickered inside of those blue eyes. No way in hell he’d let a diagnosis have any jurisdiction, no way in hell he’d let a piece of paper tell them what they were and weren’t capable of. The scar in his forehead was goddamn proof of miracles, whether it be by divine intervention, or the universe deciding a different way of going about things. But if there was one thing for damn certain, it was that he wasn’t going to give up.

“See this?” Nigel said, pulling back his hair to reveal the scar across his forehead. “You know that bullet shoulda killed me. But you know that it didn’t, or else I wouldn’t be sitting next to you right now. Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s something else. But miracles or luck or damn good coincidences happen. So what if it’s hard? You and I have never shied away from a challenge. Have a little faith, Adam. Faith in us, faith in the universe, faith in my fucking dick, I don’t care. It’s not gonna be fucking easy, but it’s just a diagnosis. Maybe we shouldn’t give up so fucking easily.” 

Adam’s brow furrowed, not quite understanding what he was saying. The diagnosis had found its basis in science. It couldn’t be quite so easily discarded, could it? But that bullet should’ve gone through Nigel’s brain, and it didn’t, despite what all known laws of physics might have said. Adam had been well past the age of presenting when he did, presenting at the graze of Nigel’s fingers. Nigel had found his way to his doorstep from across the world. There were so many improbabilities that had come to fruition since the beginning, so many things that weren’t supposed to happen happening to them, for them. Maybe miracles didn’t exist, but maybe they had something close to that. Maybe they could make another one happen.

“What are you saying, Nigel?” Adam inquired.

“I’m saying fuck the results. Fuck the doctors, fuck the blood tests, fuck the diagnoses. I’m saying that we should keep trying. I’m saying that I put a baby in you once, and that we can do it again, and we can make it stick this time, I swear. I’m saying let’s have a baby.”

With those words, Adam felt the fire roar to life inside of him. The force of his heat hit him harder than it had before. Harder than the first night, harder than the first bout of this heat. It roared inside of him as slick gushed fresh between his thighs, onto the carpet. Some far away part of him registered faintly that it would be a hard stain to get out, but it was consumed by his desire, by his need. But still, there was some clarity reserved inside of him. Just enough to know what he wanted. Just enough to believe Nigel wholeheartedly. Just enough to have faith.

Adam nodded hard, a small smile drawn to his lips as he propped himself up on his knees, inching closer, hoping that Nigel would smell the slick that was dripping down his thighs. He discarded his fear, his pain, and opted for something better. Logic and reason and obsessive reliance upon facts and science and diagnoses were gone. Maybe it was for the sake of his heat, or perhaps it was a change of heart. Maybe it was an act of a desperate man, or perhaps the act of a persistent one. But he decided that there was no point in abandoning their efforts so quickly. He decided that he would have faith. In the universe, in them, in Nigel’s fucking dick. He would have faith, and he would cling to that faith until it ran out.

“Let’s have a baby.” Adam echoed quietly. 

The scent hit him like a freight train. Adam’s eyes were glassy, and he could smell the slick dripping thick onto the carpet beneath him. Eyes blown wide, chest heaving ever so slightly, devolving, losing his clarity. Adam was going back into his heat, and it was about to drive him buck fucking wild. 

“Adam…” Nigel breathed, unsure if he was allowed to touch, unsure if Adam wanted him yet. He found himself reminiscing on the night that Adam had presented somewhere in the back of his mind. Names whispered like prayers, hesitant grazes of fingertips, barely able to contain themselves through the haze of pheromones. 

“You’re rutting again.” Adam murmured, eyes gazing over the alpha. “Your pupils are dilated, you’re sweating and flushed, like you might have a slight fever. I can see your nipples against your shirt, they’re erect, and… and you're hard.” He gulped down hard, glancing down at the rigid cock tucked inside of his jeans, looking almost painful from beneath the denim. His eyes found Nigel’s face again, finding the hungry look in his eyes and feeling a sharp twinge of guilt for letting him go through it alone for any length of time. He shifted slightly, inching closer to close the gap between them, neither quite seeming sure as to who should make the first move. Instead, Adam let a small, murmured question escape from his lips. “What’s it feel like?” 

Nigel had been asked this question before, and he figured that it wouldn’t be the last time he would be asked. Adam had to ask to understand, couldn’t quite empathize on his own. He had to ask to know, and Nigel would always, without question, without hesitation, always answer him in complete earnesty. 

“It feels like I can’t fuckin’ breathe. It hurts fucking bad, but Christ, it feels fucking good. Like everything aches, and I need the friction more than I need fucking oxygen. Like I might die without it.” Nigel answered, a hand reaching down to palm at his crotch, pressing the heel of his hand against his throbbing length in attempt to appease the need for friction. He made certain to make something of a show of it, hoping that the sight would be enough to draw Adam onto his cock. “It’s like all I can think about is being inside of that tight little hole of yours. Like I want to fucking drown in you. Like all I can think about is fucking and knotting and breeding you, baby, and _oh, Christ, Adam.”_

The last part came out in the form of a moan, rutting against the palm of his hand being enough to provide just enough pleasure to drive him fucking wild. Adam stared with big blue eyes, watching intently at the small movements of his hand, watching as he pleasured himself through the denim confines of his jeans. It was almost enough to drive him into the floor, to reach behind himself and present until Nigel took him fast and hard, knotting him and seeding him.

“Nigel.” Adam breathed, whispering his name almost reverently. There was something in the way that Nigel said his name, moaning and desperate, mind too clouded to think of anything beyond his primal instincts, that drove Adam to the brink of whining. Of begging for him. Still, he sat, unable to will his limbs to move. 

“Adam, baby…” He groaned, breathing heavy, grinding hard against his hand. Sweat was dripping down his forehead as he reached out a hand, reaching to close the gap between them, reaching halfway between the void that had formed between their bodies, deciding to allow Adam to close the rest. 

He bowed his head, staring down at his own crotch, watching himself rub and neck for the satisfaction that he needed, imagining that it was Adam’s hand instead of his. It wasn’t exactly an accurate depiction of what Adam might do to him, though. His movements were gentler, more curious. He would unzip his jeans and free his length beforehand, would opt for tender strokes, watching, intrigued by the movements of his foreskin, always paying special attention to his swelling knot… “Baby- oh god, _Adam.”_ He begged, holding out his free hand a bit more insistently, praying to god that he would take it.

It was the need growing in the pit of his belly that finally drove his hand to Nigel’s. If not for his heat intensifying, he would’ve opted to watch awhile longer. He liked to watch whenever Nigel pleasured himself, always had, even before presenting. He’d walked in on him a few times before, sometimes without Nigel’s immediate attention being called, and he’d stood watching until the alpha finally took notice of him. He liked to watch his expressions, hear the noises that came from his throat. He liked to hear his name murmured through begging moans. He liked to know that he was the subject of Nigel’s fantasies.

But the heat did come, and it nearly drove him wild. He needed it. He needed to be taken and fucked and knotted and bred until his heat subsided. He needed to cast aside diagnoses and pain and let himself have faith. He needed to try.

He took Nigel’s hand in his, gently at first, a mere graze of fingertips pressed against his palm. And then, the hard grasp of fingers pulling him forward, pulling Adam onto the alpha’s lap. Nigel’s lips collided hard and rough with his, pulling him into his lap, pressing hard against his body. The alpha tore the blanket away from him, like anything but skin pressed against skin would kill him, pulling him hard against him. Adam whined against his lips, Nigel greedily swallowing the sound, fingers pulling tight through his curls. 

Adam could feel Nigel rutting up against him, feel the hard outline of his erection through his jeans. He pulled away from Nigel’s lips, burying his face into the crook of his neck, letting himself drown in his scent, softly lapping at the place where he’d bitten down during his last heat. It may as well have been an eternity ago, though, so far from where he’d been then. Naive and excited for the future, without worry, without care, without fear of what might come of it. The scent of him, the marred skin against his tongue, it was comforting, almost enough to take him back to that hotel room.

He tightened his legs around the alpha’s waist, trying his hardest to get closer. Nigel was rutting hard against him, necking and moaning, grinding up against his slick-soaked bottom. The denim was wet, sticky from slick, and not nearly enough as he sat, hips giving small, stuttering thrusts with every passing second. Adam let out a wrecked whine in his desperation, slipping his fingers in the space in between them, working at the buttons of his shirt, working to free him of such confines. 

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” Nigel growled against his boy’s ear, breath heavy and thick against tingling flesh, sending a shiver down his spine. Adam gave a small nod against his shoulder, just big enough for Nigel to feel it, just enough to send him spiraling. 

He reached for Adam’s hand, pulling it toward the obscene bulge in his jeans, guiding for him to feel. Adam touched, feeling the heat pressing against the palm of his hand, feeling the twitch beneath his fingers. He couldn’t help but think how much he’d like to have it sheathed inside of him, how desperately he wanted to be impaled by his length, seated around his girth. Feeling it trapped beneath denim and cotton, a wet patch spreading across his pants, it nearly drove him wild. 

“Feel that, baby? Feel how rock fucking solid I am for you?” Nigel breathed as Adam reached up again, fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt, searching for something to cling to, burying his face back into the crook of his neck. It was like he was trying to fucking drown in his scent, the way he was breathing. The whole damn thing had Nigel panting as he reached beneath him, undoing the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper, freeing his aching cock. His fingers found Adam’s wrist again, guiding it from his shirt and down to his swollen prick, aching to feel those deft little fingers stroking him off. 

Adam glanced down between them as Nigel lined his member up against his own, breath catching in his throat at the contact. The brief shock that followed the heady sensation, the haze that settled around his head as he gave small, jerky thrusts against the velvety heat of his alpha’s cock. His vision blurred for a brief moment as Nigel guided the omega’s hand down around his knot, giving a silent instruction for him to touch, to stroke. 

“Want you, Nigel.” Adam murmured, watching Nigel’s cock as he stroked, watching as the foreskin glided over the head. He stroked as slowly as he could manage, savoring the sight of it beneath him, almost as though he was studying it. Each new bead of pre-come released from the slit, flowing almost like a fountain with the movement of his foreskin. He was painfully hard and hot in his hand, knot swelling and throbbing just beneath his palm, each movement making him want it more. 

He couldn't stand it any longer. Slowly, he propped himself up on his knees and wiggled closer, reaching behind himself to spread open his hole, needing to take it inside of him. But Nigel seemed to have different plans as he wrapped a hand hard around his hip, pushing him back down onto his lap, firm in his resolution to deny his boy his pleasure just a moment longer. Just until he was well and truly desperate. Just until he couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“Not yet.” Nigel growled, pulling him hard against his body before flipping the two of them over, pushing his boy into the carpet. He could’ve come right there, could’ve popped his knot without even getting inside. His dark curls were splayed across white carpet, eyes rolling back as he whined at the absence of contact, body spreading open for him, blooming like a goddamn flower. Nigel swore beneath his breath, leaning to worship the god that lay splayed before him. 

Adam squirmed as Nigel began to press kisses down his body, suckling light bruises across pale flesh, tracing the outline of his aching cock with his tongue before curling his fingers roughly around his calves, pushing them up hard above his head. Normally, Nigel was gentle with him, until he begged for him to give it to him harder. But now, there were no reservations, no hesitations. Instead, he ducked between his thighs and pressed the flat of his tongue hard against his weeping hole. 

Adam’s back arched hard, head thrown back in his ecstasy. Even the working of his alpha’s tongue against his rim was more satisfying than his fingers had been, the teasing licks enough to leave him writhing beneath him. He let out an unabashed whine, not much caring if the neighbors heard him through the walls. Heat was a matter of biology, with no need for shame in it, so he took none, letting out a sharp cry as Nigel speared his tongue past the twitching, taut ring of muscle. 

“Inside, Nigel.” Adam begged, slick gushing from him as the insistent need growing in the pit of his belly grew stronger, begging for relief. Begging to be knotted. Begging to be filled.

“Want my cock, angel?” Nigel growled, teasing as fingers replaced his tongue, pressing two in to the hilt on the first thrust, stretching against his weeping rim. His mouth found its way to his hip bone, small, biting kisses pressed against the pale flesh, leaving small bruises to form in the morning. “I don’t fucking know, you taste so fucking good… I don’t know if I can bare to stop.” 

He pulled his fingers free of the omega’s weeping hole, drawing them to his lips, into his mouth, letting the slick pull against his tongue. The taste was fucking intoxicating, better than any drug he’d ever taken in his life. Sweet and earthy and strong and distinctly _Adam._ He studied Adam’s face as the boy watched him, watched as the alpha let the taste of him play on his tongue. He was fucking mesmerized by the sight of Adam’s face, all needy and desperate, eyes pleading with him, practically begging to be fucked into the carpet. 

At the sound of a soft, pleading moan, he decided that maybe it was best to oblige.

With a growl, Nigel propped himself hard between Adam’s knees, jerking him forward, pressing the head of his cock firm against his weeping rim. Adam, squirmy fucking thing, pushed himself down closer, practically begging to feel it slip into him, begging for his cock, begging for his knot. Adam Raki was no beggar outside of his heat, willing to take what he wanted, asking for nothing. But trapped beneath the weight of his alpha, the head of his cock pressing up against his rim, there was no saving him. He would beg for it if he had to, but he decided not to make him. 

Adam let out a sharp cry at the intrusion, letting it fade to a high-pitched moan. Relief came in the form of pleasure, coursing through him as Nigel struck right against his prostate. And in it came peace. 

In the context of space and galaxies, there was something called a Doppler shift. The vastness of space and stars are perceived as still from earth, the movement across such vast spaces too far away to see. But the Doppler shift gave an indication of the direction. If the shift gave off a red hue, then it signified that the object was moving further away. If it was blue, then the object was moving closer, on a collision course with earth. The galaxy Andromeda would one day collide with the Milky Way, in a few billion years or so. The result will be a display unlike any seen before, stars stretched and paths curved across the night sky in a beautiful explosion of light. 

From the moment that they’d learned the news, their paths had taken a red shift. Adam had ran, for his sake, for the sake of the pain. But the moment his arms had flown back around Nigel, the moment he abandoned his heartache, their paths had returned to the vibrant shade of blue that it had always been. And in the moment that Nigel’s body intertwined with his, they met their collision, in stunning displays of light spread across the carpet. 

“Nigel…” Adam breathed, voice quivering as he buried his face into the crook of his neck. His shirt was unbuttoned, but still clinging to his shoulders. His scent filled the air, mingling with his own, creating something sweeter than hazelnut, something suffocating, something comforting, something that he wanted to capture and cling to and burn in candles. He wanted to cling to it for the rest of his days. He wanted to cling to Nigel for the rest of his days.

“Feel alright, angel? You okay?” Nigel questioned quietly, making for damn certain that his Adam was okay. He wasn’t going to make another fucking move until he knew that Adam wanted this. 

_“Move,_ Nigel.” Adam insisted, impatient. He’d waited far too long for this, and the need was burning inside of him for it. 

Nigel had a tendency to do this. In heated moments such as these, he tended to freeze. Funny, almost, how he could so effortlessly take down other criminals with his bare hands, how he could kill without hesitation, but the second that he found himself pushed into Adam’s leaking hole, he froze, unable to move until Adam called him back down to earth. It had happened in the form of begging for it the first time, barely presented and begging for his alpha’s knot. Now, there was more force in his words. He knew what to expect, at least for the most part, and he needed it then

There was more clarity in him than the last time. When Nigel had taken him before, he’d descended into a sort of fog. He couldn’t think of anything past the desire to be bred, biological need overriding all other thought. But now, succumbing to it on his own, he could think more clearly in its haze. And he knew exactly what he wanted. And he knew exactly what they were going to do. 

There were no promises made. There was no guarantee of anything. But there was something stronger than the fears and the pain and the diagnosis. There was something bright enough to blind them to anything else, something strong enough to give them strength to go on. There was hope. 

They had stumbled across it before, and they would find it again. They would find their hope and their faith in something bigger than them. Not god, not angels, but they would put their faith in chance. In grand coincidence in disguise as miracles. They would put their faith in the thing that they wanted most. They would put their faith in the ideas and hopes for this future that they wanted so badly, and believe that things would sort themselves out.

Adam’s mind was spinning with thoughts and possibilities and hopes and dreams and faith until Nigel finally began to move. And then, he shattered into a million pieces, and there was nothing left. 

His thrusts started off slow, pointed, precise, every drag of his cock pressing insistently against his prostate. Adam let out a choked whimper, feeling the slick dripping down his thighs, pouring in buckets, the room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as Nigel’s pace gradually increased. The precise strokes of his alpha’s length. The gentle scratch of Nigel’s pubic hair, matted down by slick. The inescapable, incomprehensible pleasure that came from his cock being stimulated, trapped hard between their bellies. It was enough to send him reeling. It was enough to drive him wild. 

Nigel savored in the little sounds that escaped from Adam’s throat, wishing for nothing more than to make them louder. He wanted to make his boy squirm and squeal and moan, wanted to make him fucking beg for his knot. Sure, it felt good, it always felt fucking good. Like heaven on fucking earth, that tight little hole squeezing around his cock, his body acting on instinct to pull him in deeper, the squirming boy bringing so much fucking pleasure to him. But it was the sounds he made that really got him off. Breathy, whimpery moans, quiet pleas and bargains, begging for his release… _That_ was what really got him going. 

He pushed himself in hard, deep, and stayed sheathed inside, opting to grind hard into him. He could feel the head of his cock rubbing hard against his boy’s cervix, could feel the gentle contractions of his muscles trying to suck him in. 

Adam could hardly breathe as Nigel pulled him closer, shifting the position, tilting his hips upward in intentional attempt to promote conception. Nigel wanted this as desperately as he did, and Adam found himself trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cried out in such pleasured agony for it. Nudging against his cervix, grinding hard into him, threatening to spill deep into him, to coat his womb with seed. It was nature. It was natural. It was precisely what he was built for, and it was all manners of wonderful.

“Tell me what’s gonna happen inside of you when I seed you, angel. Fucking tell me what’s gonna happen when I knock you up.” Nigel said, coaxing a wrecked whine from the omega’s throat. He pressed his tongue against the scar that marked his boy’s neck, suckling at the marred flesh, savoring Adam’s fingernails scraping down his back, savoring the tightening of his knees around his waist, savoring the soft noises that he made with every thrust.

“Your knot’s going to latch against my rim and you’re going to ejaculate inside of me.” Adam explained, mind spinning with need, with thoughts of copulation and knotting and insemination and procreation. “Your semen is going to go up through my cervix. If you make me have an orgasm when you do it, my cervix is going to contract and encourage your semen through it. From there, the sperm will make its way through my uterus and up to my fallopian tubes, where an egg - _ah!_ \- wh-where an egg is waiting to, to be… _Nigel.”_

Hearing his boy talk about the processes of conception was something that made him endlessly rock fucking hard. There was something about the boy pinned down beneath him that sparked something to life inside of him, some forbidden fucking kink, some carnal fucking instinct to fuck and breed. He slammed in hard against his prostate, drawing a sharp whine from his boy’s throat, savoring in the sound. 

“What happens then?” Nigel coaxed on, wanting to hear the rest. Adam knew every fucking thing to know about this shit, and Nigel had heard it a hundred times before, but he wanted more. He wanted to hear it again and again, because of the way that Adam said it, and because of the way that Adam made him want it so fucking bad. 

“The… The egg is fertilized and begins to multiply. It later moves from… From the fallopian tubes to the… To the uterus, where it then will implant into uterine lining, and... And then I’ll be pregnant.” Adam explained shakily, struggling to keep himself composed enough to remember all the details. 

“That what you want, angel? Want me to knock you up? Put a baby in that belly of yours?” Nigel teased, voice husky as he redoubled his efforts. The slick dripped down onto the carpet, and the feeling of how wet Adam was getting at this made him thrust even harder, pounding into his boy’s hole until he was crying out in his desperation. 

_“Please,_ Nigel.” He pleaded, voice laced with desperation.

It was a scene that had played out a hundred times before, and a scene that would never grow old. It was a scene that would never fail to drive Nigel fucking wild, and a scene that would never fail to pull him hard over his climax, drawing him in deeper and deeper until he was caught hard in his omega’s embrace.

His knot popped at the sound of Adam’s whimpering moans, tying at his rim, coming hard as his semen pooled at his boy’s cervix. Adam could feel the warmth pooling inside of him, damp heat spreading through his belly, the feeling pushing him over the edge and into satisfaction, drawing a sharp, choked cry from his throat. His seed was spilled hot between them, hot and sticky against his fevered skin. His entire body contracted hard around Nigel’s knot, milking him, drawing his seed deeper into him, past his cervix, and into his uterus…

A small purr was drawn from his chest, face buried in the crook of Nigel’s shoulder as he finally returned home. Back to where he belonged, in beautiful collision, the world around them filled with dust and life and color and movement again, warmth spreading through him as he fell limp, revelling in the haze of the aftermath of such wondrous occurrences. 

“Thank you, alpha.” Adam murmured sleepily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t fuckin’ thank me, Adam.” Nigel breathed, pressing his lips against his temple, matching his breathing to his boy’s. “I’m yours. Always fucking yours.”

~~~~

“So where are we going from here, angel?” Nigel inquired softly, pulling the rag across his boy’s chest.

They’d moved back to the bedroom, deciding that the mattress was a little more comfortable than the living room floor. Besides, Adam’s scent still got so damn strong that he was pretty fucking certain that passerbys could smell him from their fourth story apartment. Best to stay where the windows stayed shut. Things almost felt normal again, sitting in their bed, Nigel cleaning him after a thorough knotting session, heads fuzzy from the surge of hormones that came after orgasm. It was soft, it was hazy, it was warm, it was home. 

“What do you mean?” Adam said beneath the haze of drowsiness, leaning slightly into Nigel’s touch as he cleaned the semen from his chest. Nigel was good like that, intimately knowing every inch of him, knowing exactly how negatively he reacted to certain textures, and knowing exactly how to make his omega comfortable. He let out a small, contented sigh, finding a moment of joy in the knowledge that he didn’t have to let go of his alpha, and appreciating the fact that he would never have to abandon the single best thing that had ever happened to him. 

“Are we gonna keep trying for a baby? We’re still doing this?” Nigel asked, asking for confirmation. He needed to know that it was real. Something genuine, not just murmured beneath the hormones and haze. 

“That was what we agreed upon, yes.” Adam answered softly. “But not too hard.”

“Hmm?” 

“Not too hard. I don’t want it to consume us. It can’t be all we want. We can’t get our hopes too high until it happens. We can’t let it be the only thing we think about. We got too excited last time, and it hurt too much.” Adam sighed. 

The entire incident had been traumatic. It had left him shattered and bruised and aching, and there was still healing to be done. Miscarriages and supposed infertility were not things one got over so quickly, or so easily. To let his hopes get so high again seemed foolish. But it didn’t mean he wanted to stop trying. 

“So what? We go back to normal? Way things were before, except I don't worry about putting a condom on during heat?” Nigel inquired, tossing the rag into the corner before taking Adam’s hands in his own, thumb running over his knuckles.

“Not exactly. Things changed when I presented. We can still have sex, and talk about it. But… Not so much. We need to have other things to look forward to. To cling to.” 

Nigel gave a small smile and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss against his boy’s forehead. Things were warm again, softer now, finding their way back to something resembling normalcy. The ways in which they touched no longer so strained, the ways in which they spoke no longer so one-sided. 

“We never only had a baby to hold onto, angel.” He murmured, running his fingers through his curls. “You always had your stars. I always had you.” 

Adam smiled softly and leaned into his embrace, savoring in the feeling of being held, revelling in the feeling of being loved. 

“Stars and you.” Adam breathed. Things to cling to. Things to focus on. Things that would never go away. There would come a day when the stars would shine no more, and a day when Nigel would no longer love him, but Adam would be long dead before either of those days came. Those were the things in life that truly mattered. The things that were truly important. 

“Stars and me, angel. Just you and me, floating in space dust.”

~~~~

 

Adam had lost count of the days before he woke without the need growing between his thighs. 

His heat had finally passed, so it seemed, and life resumed as usual. The smell of coffee was strong throughout the house, and Adam could catch the faint whiff of a cigarette, but only one. His thighs were tacky with dried slick and his hair hadn’t been washed in a few days, and the whole thing was altogether uncomfortable, but it was familiar. It was the same thing he woke up to almost every morning. It was routine. It was easy. It was familiar. It was home. 

He rolled over slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes until they found his nightstand. Water that hadn’t been there the night before, and a crookedly-folded piece of notebook paper with his name scribbled across the outside, sitting next to a pendant on a chain. 

A note. Three lines. Short. Simple. Blunt. Nigel.

_“Have faith._  
_In me, in my dick, in some cosmic fucking entity, in the goddamn universe._  
_Have faith in us.”_

Adam smiled, fingers curling around the pendant shaped like Saturn. The locket that he’d torn from his neck in the throes of rampage and meltdown, casting it aside like nothing more than a cruel reminder to all that he had lost. But, he supposed, it was once again something to hope for. He and Nigel, smiling and joyous again, locked inside. A reminder of what had been, and what could be again. 

There was hope that filled him. Hope, and faith, and courage to carry on. There was hope for the future, strength to reach for the stars but always knowing that there would always be someone to catch him should he land. There was calm, and there was peace, and there was a hope for joy again. They could be happy. They could be content. They could find the whole world in a child or in each other, and be just as happy either way. 

Adam smiled, and rose from his bed, pulling a blanket around his shoulders as he padded into the kitchen to join his alpha.


End file.
